Love's Grip
by kwityerbeliaken
Summary: Asahi and Takeda-sensei develop their acquaintanceship over shared favorites, and a little something more develops. Rated M for later chapters, m/.
1. Chapter 1

I know this is kind of a weird pairing, but I just thought it'd go well because they're both hardcore romanticists. This first chapter will be in third person. Usually I'm the type to only read smut fics-I'm a horrible person I know. So why I'm actually making something with drawn out story is beyond me, and I hope it isn't boring. Just look forward to smut in the future at least haha. Let me know what you think too, that's always helpful!

Enjoy~

* * *

Sometimes, Azumane hated being tall and bulky. It served its purpose in volleyball, he was grateful for possessing that natural, raw power. But when he suddenly shot up in middle school he was troubled by it and couldn't get a word in edge wise without someone commenting about his height. Instead of giving him a wildly appealing look, the longer hair and the goatee served to make him look older, unruly (in a negative connotation), and like a no good criminal. In addition, Asahi was wearing his school's gakuran, so students weren't taken seriously in the first place. Some shopkeepers, like this particular one at the book store, was eyeing him threateningly from around one of the bookshelves, but quickly retreating whenever Asahi gathered enough courage to look his way.

'Ffffuuuuck this is annoying. Chain store employees don't breathe over your shoulder,' Asahi looked nervous enough, almost calling the search quits, when he'd found the title he was looking for. He forgot about his height and his bulky figure that had him apologizing under his breath whenever someone else needed to pass by between those shelves, forgetting even about the obnoxiously distrusting shopkeeper as he scanned the front cover, and then the back.

There was a shuffle to the side of him, Azumane mumbling a dazed apology and stepping away without a glance, before Takeda Ittetsu was clearing his throat, demanding Asahi's attention.

"Azumane-kun, I didn't know you read." The bearded brunette raised his head from the book reluctantly, eyes widening curiously down at the bespectacled, curly headed teacher. Takeda-sensei realized the err in his statement, quickly adding in, " _Wordsworth_. There aren't a lot of copies in Japanese, not around here at least. I'm glad you found one." The third year's expression softened, the incredibly gentle giant raising a hand to scratch the back of his head in a shy manner. "My Grandpa had a _huge_ bookcase. He'd help me read through the harder kanji, but let me try on my own the rest of the time. I figured I'd see if they had any other works or collections. It's... haha, sorry, nostalgia gets me rambling like no other." A broad, silly grin melted over the ace's lips, his free hand dropping from his head, and picking at the bottom of his uniform's jacket. Like his volleyball adviser wanted to hear his one-man show about his grandpa.

The volleyball club's adviser looked up with a determined glint in his eye, shaking his head sweetly. His head then tilts, and he recounts perfectly in Japanese translation, "That it will never come again is what makes life so sweet."

It was so corny that Asahi knew he should've disregarded it, or laughed it off. Kids his age were more apt to be reading comics than Romantic Era literature and pretend to not know who Keats and Goethe were. But with the teacher looking at him like that so seriously, he opened his heart and nodded with a smile. "You know Emily Dickinson too. With your quotes during practice, I'd have thought you were strictly a Japanese literature kind of guy."

"Only one type of literature can get you so far. But I do advocate reading some Japanese."

"... Nope. Won't do it," Asahi teased nonchalantly, grinning when he got a buoyantly surprised reaction out of his teacher. It seemed like the shopkeeper had backed off then, still a little frazzled as the two enjoyed each others company, Takeda being the first to stop laughing when he aimed for a particularly high book on the top shelf. There were a few attempts, the tips of his fingers barely brushing against the spine, when the teacher let out a defeated huff. "Azumane, sorry to take advantage of your height, but I'd like to get that book off the shelf." There was a glance up at the taller male, who expressed a look of recognition before nodding. "Yeah, it's no problem." Takeda-sensei didn't make any gesture to move out of the way, so Asahi was shying up behind the teacher, his broad chest pressing forward into the others back. Asahi's ears were a little pink, but he was a highschooler now, it was uncool to get embarrassed by as something fleeting as a little contact. Asahi backed up and presented the book, Takeda looking thoughtful before patting the middle of Asahi's chest with a warm hand. "Strong, aren't you? As expected of the Ace~" His teasing had Asahi thoroughly flustered, handing over the book as his teacher's bubbly, loud laughter filled the corner of the store.

Maybe it wasn't so bad being tall, or big.

The two finally migrated toward the front of the store, the clerk automatically getting behind the register to throw a few weary glances in Azumane's direction. "Didn't steal anything, did you?" He grumbled as Asahi got out his wallet, the teen's face turning a mortified shade of red. "N-No!"

"Now, I don't think that's fair at all, Mr. Wakamine. Asahi is _not_ that kind of kid." Takeshi was right by his side, but not as intimidating as Azumane was, even when he was trembling in embarrassment and low affect.

"What, he a student of yours, Sensei? You trying to tell me this guy in his midtwenties _still_ going to high school doesn't have anything to lose? You look younger than _him_ , Ittetsu." So that was Sensei's first name? Wait, they knew each other that well?

Takeda wrinkled his nose determinedly, nodding resolutely, "He is my student. And I'll have you know he's _also_ the _Ace_ of our high school volleyball team, the one I advise for. He's a very, _very_ good child." Being called a good _child_ wasn't exactly flattering, he didn't know if he liked being labeled as a twenty something year old guy still going to high school, however.

"Ahh, team sports. That'll keep your juvenile delinquents off the streets. There's statistics about that kind of stuff." Mr. Wakamine, the bookstore owner was ringing Asahi up, taking the money and delivering change promptly, before ringing Takeda's book up. "So _you've_ done your reading too," Ittetsu smiled happily, and the man grunted in assent, "Yer damn _right_. _"_

"Thanks for sticking up for me." Asahi mumbled around a mouthful of steaming meat and bread, taking in sharp breaths of the surrounding cool air to keep from burning his tongue. The two of them were heading home, both having purchased books, and Takeda-sensei obliging his 'diligent student' by buying the two of them a meat bun each. Takeda was breathing cool streams onto his own, before giving a little shrug. "You're a good kid, so that's not even a question." There it was again; _kid_. It made Asahi feel conflicted, which probably had to do with the issues at home, which is what had kept him out so late after school.

"... Aren't you going home, Azumane-kun?"

The teen had been looking forlornly down the road, his feet glued to the pavement. "I think I'll stay out for a little longer. Read this book somewhere." He gave a little wave of the bag, trying not to show too much of what he was feeling, but his teacher was quick to walk up to him. "I'll keep you company until you do go home, then... it's cold, isn't it?" Takeda shivered, but nonetheless started walking in the direction of the local park.

"Ah, thank you." Takeda reached upward to take the warmed can of tea from Azumane's gloved hands, the latter joining his teacher on the bench as they waited for Azumane to gather up the courage to go home. "You bought meat buns, so... it's my turn to treat you." Azumane averted his eyes shyly as he drank, and Takeda's pink fingertips warmed themselves on the can while he smiled softly. "What's keeping you from going home?" He asked then, voice gentle and open. He had a knack for earning students' trust, and making them feel relaxed and slightly _angry_ that he only viewed them as children. It was like that in Asahi's case, anyway.

"'m just... fighting with my parents, I guess." Asahi sighed and slouched forward, elbows on his knees, extending his hands out while his thumb skimmed along the rim of the can. Takeda watched, visible concern on his features. "I don't know what I want to do after high school, and I know I'm supposed to have some vague idea... but I _know_ I don't want to go to college and end up going into something I hate. I'd rather just start out small, get a full time job with labor or something. Everybody treats me like a kid who doesn't know any better. _God_ , even that guy at the bookstore took me more seriously than anyone has." The teen brought one of his hands up to his face, rubbing his hand over it thoughtfully with a deep, dragged out sigh. The sound made Takeda shiver, before he quickly composed himself.

As a teacher, it was Takeda's job to instruct, to impart some wisdom, to make a difference in the life of a student. And in that evening, sitting beside the younger male on a park bench, he wanted to fulfill that role. "Asahi... in many ways, you are still a child." The teenager tensed at that, wondering if he was going to get another lecture akin to the ones his parents gave him, but Takeda continued. "But... in other ways, you're very much becoming an adult. I think breaking off from your parents ideals and finding your own is a good way to start... I-I'm not advocating that you start deliberately disobeying them and start acting out..." Asahi laughed a little bitterly, wiping the corners of his eyes and sniffling. "Your parents will be proud no matter what you do. In the end, they just want you to be happy. They don't want you to make any mistakes, at least not the ones they've made. With maturity comes an understanding of other peoples' feelings, and you can more easily decipher why they do what they do. But until then, we're _all_ just children learning."

Takeda wondered if his words were meaningless, whether or not Asahi would take them to heart and listen. Surprisingly enough, he saw the teenager's shoulders slacken, and a warmer smile start on his face. "... Yeah. You keep saying we're just baby crows leaving our shells, when it comes to our skills at least. I guess that can apply to a lot of stuff, can't it?" Asahi sat up a little straighter, looking his pleasantly surprised teacher in the eye. Takeda grinned heartily, chirping out a bright, "It can!"

They spoke some more, but nothing in great length. It was mostly about Asahi's parents and their 'dreams' they had for him. It was getting late, and Takeda urged that Asahi at least contact them to know he was alright. Asahi smiled at his phone, tearing his gaze away when he heard the other standing. "I think it's time to head home. Are you ready, Azumane?"

"... I'm ready."

* * *

"I talked to my parents some more. It was a little more calm this time. We all got everything out on the table, at least... so, I wanted to thank you." Asahi had come into the staff room during lunch, where most teachers congregated in the time lapse to work and eat. Takeda was trying to quickly chew and swallow his food to reply in kind, earning a quiet laugh from the taller male when he nearly choked. "That's wonderful! I'm so happy things are getting better for you." Asahi nodded, his bulky stature looking a little too out of place in the high school uniform. Maybe Takeda thought him more a man than he actually let on, but thankfully Asahi spoke up again to rid him of his silly thoughts. "That book you got last time... I wasn't really thinking straight, but I actually had a copy that I could've loaned you. It's a good one, isn't it?" Azumane had been thinking about it all weekend, worrying that Takeda didn't like it and wasted his money, or wondering what his reactions were to the book.

Takeda lit up like a lamp post.

They'd spent the entire lunch period talking about the book, and the author. Takeda hadn't gotten any work done, and Asahi missed afternoon practice. But the both of them found a shared interest, and they exploited it.

"You know, he's doing a book signing in Tokyo, soon." Takeda informed as they walked to class, earning a troubled sigh out of Asahi.

"I _do_ know. But there's no way my parents are letting me go to Tokyo alone." It seemed as if the teacher had been waiting for this, his telltale determined smirk already forming on his lips. "Why do you think I'd bring it up? We'll go together! ... If your parents would be okay with that. If _you..._ would want to." The teacher stopped in front of the brunette's classroom, looking down at his attendance papers. Was he nervous? Why?

The seventeen year old gave a sheepish grin, leaning a little closer. "I want to."

Evidently happy that Asahi was willing, Takeda slapped a hand onto his bicep with a soft squeeze, pleasantly starting the other. "It's cold in the morning, so bundle up. We'll start off bright and early. Almost like an away game, _secret_ from the rest of the team." It was almost like they _were_ meeting up in secret, and it filled Asahi with a delight.

* * *

It was an earlier morning than usual, but this time he wasn't awake for some out of town volleyball game. Asahi was heading out to the station for the first train of the day, where he and Takeda-sensei would make it to Tokyo just in time to meet their favorite author, and hopefully get a signature from him. Asahi wasn't the first to arrive, and his walking turned into a jog at the sight of the bushy haired older man, all snuggled up in a coat and a scarf, which did nothing to protect the red tips of his ears and nose. "Train hasn't come yet? Good," Asahi mused, getting a good eyeful of Sensei's clothes. There wasn't anything special about the outfit, but it certainly wasn't the usually professional attire Takeda wore. He was in a stylish coat that went down past his waist and buttoned up in the middle, as well as a pair of casual jeans and sneakers. Asahi himself was in a fur-lined vest, with a long sleeved maroon shirt, and a pair of tan corduroys down below with some decent boots he'd worn in. His hair was tied in a loose ponytail, with a beanie that matched his long sleeved shirt tugged onto his head.

Takeda was all eyes too, smiling sweetly once their eyes finally met. "I don't think I've seen you out of your uniform, Azumane. You look good! I bet you must be very popular." Compliments and Asahi didn't mix well, and they were poorly received by the shy, humble giant. "U-Uhm, thanks. I don't know much about that." There had been the occasional confession or two from girls who clearly knew nothing of him but wanted a go at 'taming the wild delinquent', but after a nerve-wracked apology and rejection, they understood fully what they were missing. And seemed to be fine with it.

"I think Sensei… looks good, too." The recipient of the compliment looked surprised to see it, and his expression became bashful and and pleased. "Oh, really? Thank you." He replied with a goofy grin, which he hid in his scarf.

What was with this atmosphere? It was nice, sure. But wasn't it kind of like a...

Date?

They were both thinking it. The older man was completely rejecting the thought, no matter how mature Azumane looked and acted, he was still his student and underage. Asahi was a little more liberal with the thought, open to himself as he glanced down his teacher's body, which was covered by cute warm clothes anyway. They were playing stare tag, Asahi looking away as soon as he saw his teacher's gaze shift onto him, the two returning gazes until the train reared up to the tracks. "It's here!" Takeda announced for them, and the two boarded and sat down near each other.

The teacher had a bag on his lap that Asahi earlier hadn't realized he'd been holding. When he looked down at it, Takeda met his gaze excitedly with a thumbs up. "I bought us lunches for the trip!" The excitement dulled as he looked embarrassedly into the bag, his hands supporting the contents with a little frown. "We _could_ probably stop by a cafe if you wanted, and get something better prepared instead of weird store bought boxed lunches... I just thought..."

"No! No it's fine, I want to eat it. Thank you!" Asahi quickly corrected, eager in his attempts to sooth the apprehension. With Asahi's tenderness, whatever embarrassment Takeda held melted away, and he was hugging the bag to his chest sweetly. "Wonderful. I'm happy~"

It was hard to derail after such a picture perfect moment between them, but Asahi managed it, because he was already stifling the urge to call Takeda out on his cuteness. That'd definitely get him a weird look out of the usually tolerant teacher. But as Takeda spoke animatedly about the author they were about to meet, as well as the very few novels that Asahi hadn't read, it was difficult to describe his teacher in any other fashion. He was just _cute_ and so tenderhearted that Asahi wanted to... well, protect him. He figured no one else would understand it. The other third years from the club always made fun of him for being sentimental, and the next closest person to him, Nishinoya, acted on his instincts but rarely thought about them. But Takeda-sensei... Asahi could always rely on him to understand the beauty in everything, how it was connected, and how they could live by appreciating it.

Would Takeda understand Asahi's feelings then?

Well, growing feelings of friendship. That's what it had to be. He hadn't been able to talk to anyone like this about books or family problems like this since his grandfather was around. And Takeda-sensei obliged him by listening, and exploring each new topic as they discussed books.

It was around the end of their ride when they'd pulled out the box lunches, Asahi eyeing his with awe and reverie. "Thanks for the food, Sensei! Looks good." Takeda was breaking apart his wooden chopsticks with a smile and encouraging nod, watching the teenager dig in. "I'm not very good at cooking, so even if I tried, I think these ones from the convenience store are better. What about you, Asahi, can you cook?" Asahi was already through two mouthfuls by the time his teacher asked his question, which was awkward with a full mouth when he was expecting an answer, Asahi hurriedly swallowing before wiping his mouth off with the back of his hand. "Yeah, a little. If I wake up early enough, I make my own... bento..." The ponytailed teen trailed his sentence slowly, as he watched his teacher lean forward and swipe off a few rice grains from his cheek with a thumb. Asahi could feel the heat rushing to the tips of his ears as Takeda then licked the thumb, before the teen commented, "You... seem like you're used to taking care of people. Do you have any siblings?" He had to get his mind off of Takeda's small, pink tongue, and the way his lips sweetly wrapped around his chopsticks.

The smaller man nodded, fixing his glasses with his knuckles as he chewed. "Three younger, one older. When I lived at home, I watched the younger ones. Should've learned how to cook in all that time, I guess." The teacher laughed a little, before nodding Azumane's way. "But in your case, it's just you and your parents, right? Ah, here's some water." The bespectacled instructor rummaged through the bag for two water bottles, handing one to Azumane as he'd been pounding his own chest to get the food down his esophagus. One bead of water leaked from the corner of Asahi's lips as he drank, trailing down the firm jawline, sliding over his goatee and down his neck, over his Adam's apple. Takeda watched the journey of this little stream of water before Asahi let out an invigorating sigh, holding his bottle in between his thighs before eating some more. "Just me. One problem child was enough, I guess." Asahi teased, though felt there was some truth behind it. Ittetsu frowned at that, stirring his chopsticks around the side dishes. "I think that's unfair to say, when you've been working so hard to cooperate and talk things out with them. I think... you're a very good child."

"Just a child?" Asahi asked, a little more confidently than he previously intended. His gaze was locked onto Takeda's, and the taller male could've _sworn_ he saw the briefest flicker of shock in his eyes, before he was calmly regarding his student. "No. You face your problems head on and figure them out whether with your parents or volleyball. I think that's the mark of a man, even if you feel hesitant at times and second guess yourself. You're also very diligent when it comes to school and the team. It's almost heartbreaking how much you've grown in the few years I've been advising for the club. It's like you're almost ready to _leave the nest_." Takeda laughed sadly, using his chopsticks to bring a few bites to his mouth. More _bird_ analogies, Asahi understood. He ate some more himself, nearly finished when his teacher commented, "You also seem a _bit_ older than you are... physically, you know?" Takeda's face heated up a little, before he was leaning in close to affectionately rub his arm against Asahi's. "But don't be in any rush to grow, that'll come sooner than you think. Enjoy your youth while you can, my friend." Saying that really didn't suit the twenty-nine year old, Asahi chuckling lowly. "Youth has no age," the younger man countered, before Takeda looked up, a gleam in his eyes.

"Who said _that_?" he asked, looking as if he'd use that in every one of his speeches from now on.

"Pablo Picasso, Sensei."

"Oh. The one with the weird paintings?"

"That'd be him."

* * *

The trip lasted for a little longer before they ushered off of the train and away from the station to find the site of the book signing. The teacher opened the door for Asahi, and the two headed into the bookstore toward the back, where a number of people were already sitting in rows of chairs that'd been set out for the Q&A before signing went on. The two of them grabbed a seat somewhere in the middle, Takeda practically bouncing in his seat, holding the copy of the latest book that he'd have the author sign. "Isn't this exciting? Ah, I can't wait to read this!" He began to flip through the pages before he stopped himself, wanting to properly organize his thoughts for the man coming out on stage. Asahi was excited too, though displayed it more subtly than the man beside him, and most of his focus was taken up by the adorably ecstatic fan, watching his eyes go wide with wonder as the author made an appearance.

The author seemed so casual and average it was almost startling, since Asahi and Takeda revered him like some god. It went by smoothly, even Ittetsu had a question of his own answered, and they were lining up for the book signing. Asahi waited until his teacher was done profusely thanking and congratulating the man before they were heading out, the taller male watching how his shorter counterpart marveled at the signature in his book. "He shook my hand! I shook the hand that writes those novels!" He sighed dramatically and held his book close to his chest, before finally looking at Asahi. "Wonderful, wasn't it? ... We've still got some time before we have to head back to Saitama. Is there... anything else you wanted to do? Are you hungry? It's still cold out, isn't it?" The older man asked before he was looking back to his book, longingly. Asahi chuckled, plopping his own book on top of Ittetsu's head. "Let's find a spot to read. You want to start right away, I can tell. _Me too_." Asahi's assumption had been correct, the brunette taking in the overjoyed expression on his teacher's face with the utmost of mirth. "Let's!"

So they found a cafe near the station, each of them getting something warm to drink as they read the first few chapters. Asahi would occasionally look up from his own pace to watch Takeda's eyes buzz from beneath his glasses, soaking up every word like it'd be his last. There was something constricting in Azumane's throat, he didn't know what it was that made him so happy to be here, reading a _book_ with his teacher. He glanced back down, sucked into the vast imaginative world of their mutually preferred author, until Ittetsu's chipper voice broke the silence. "Have you gotten to page fifty yet? O-Oh, no? Tell me when you do." Instead of going on, Ittetsu seemed happy enough to set down his book, using his napkin as a place marker as he took up the tea in his hands, watching Azumane. It was making the teen feel a little self conscious when Takeda was staring at him so expectantly, Asahi's face turning a shade of red as he tried to busy himself in the text. When he _did_ happen to catch up and come upon the very passage his teacher referenced, he was caught by the powerful words, and it had him stumbling over his words. "This is..."

" _Caught in the **tormenting** passivity of life's eternity, daunted by death's **grip** in which no religion or train of thought can sustain me. None can quiet the dull **thrum** of mortality's ever continuous precedence over all that **is**." _ Asahi read along as his teacher spoke each word like scripture, feeling his own heart all but give out. "It's so good, isn't it? Wordy for him, sure, but... _God_ Azumane-kun, I won't ever be the same! Not ever!"

Asahi laughed beside him, just as eager as his older counterpart, eyes lit with fascination as he studied his teacher. "You've been advising us for... three years it's been. I don't think I've ever seen you so excited." The boy shifted in his seat as Takeda's expression softened into an exceedingly, gently precious manner, and with it his voice. "As a teacher, there are professional standards you have to keep up, but... well, I very much consider you a friend. You're very pleasant to be around, Asahi." It was Asahi's turn to feel the warmth spread through him, his excited smile dimming into a goofy calmness as he regarded the older man that didn't seem to be that much older at all. "Thanks. It means a lot to me." They watched each other for a moment, Asahi neglecting restraint as he carefully drank in each minute detail of the smaller man's face, before Takeda quickly went back to reading. They'd lingered a little longer at the cafe, gushing about the book and the author, before it was time to leave.

They sat closer this time, but Azumane hadn't noticed it until Takeda's head drooped onto his shoulder. The curly haired megane had fallen asleep somewhere along the line and used the ace's shoulder as a makeshift pillow. Without disgust or anxiousness, Azumane settled into the slow, soft rhythm of his teacher's breathing, staying awake if only to make sure they got off on the right stop. That, and the twenty nine year old looked pretty cute on his arm like that.

"Sensei... our stop's coming up." His gentle, deep voice woke Takeda out of the rolling movement of the train that'd hypnotized him into sleep in the first place. His fingers curled and came up to his face to rub the sleepiness from his eyes, and a quiet yawn left him. "I fell asleep," he then said, smiling in a silly, tired way that had Azumane's heart melting. He was addicted to learning all these new sides of Takeda, he really hadn't wanted this day, or this warmth between them, to end. "You did. Here, the doors are opening." Standing up, he hooked an arm around his shorter counterpart to help him up, shuffling the two of them out of the sliding doors and onto the platform, only letting go when he was sure his teacher was steady.

"I go in a different direction from your house, don't I?" Ittetsu asked, looking as if he could fall asleep while walking. Asahi stepped forward, concern masked over his features. "Maybe I should walk you home. It's late out, and you're tired." The bespectacled male quickly shook his head with a smile, looking toward the road. "No, the cold will keep me nice and awake until I get home and under the covers. _I'm_ the one that should be concerned about you walking out late at night, my student!"

"... Alright." Asahi relaxed, a good natured smile on his face as he nodded almost in a ducking manner. "I'll see you at school then, Sensei."

"See you." Ittetsu waved before turning to start down on the road. He'd almost wished he'd taken Asahi up on his offer, invited him over for a cup of tea, then had him stay the night. But it was a school night, even if there weren't any hidden motives, it'd be better if Asahi went home to his family safe and sound.

And that he did, all the while thinking of the new book, their day together, and the new feelings that sprung inside him concerning his teacher.


	2. Chapter 2

Second installment, originally the first but I decided to add a bit of story in front. This is told from Takeda's perspective. c:

* * *

"... I think I'm in love with Takeda-sensei." He's got a hand in his lap, the other's scratching at his facial hair. I can't see it, but I can hear the scritch scratch from the other side of the door, even through the loud thumping in my ears that matched my quick heartbeat. Asahi Azumane's voice is trembling, and there's hopelessness and dread in his tone, but my feet are planted on the ground, rendering me immovable. It's not like I can barge in at a time like this, even if it is to comfort a student.

After all, it's _me_ he's talking about.

I'm Ittetsu Takeda. I'm twenty-nine years old, I teach Modern Japanese Literature at Karasuno High, and I also advise for the boy's volleyball club. Well, they call it advising, when all I can do is attempt some form of encouragement and guidance when I feel they need it. I'm very fond of those boys-I really am. They work so hard day in and day out, and when they've done so much and exceeded expectations, it's the adult's job to make sure all that hard work doesn't go to waste. That's why I don't mind borderline harassing other coaches for games, raising funds for traveling expenses, and occupying Ukai's store to bug him about coaching. The students are patient with me as well, and they tolerate my rambling.

But for one of them to love me? In a romantic sense? As mortifying a thought as it was, I had to question Azumane's taste. I'm pretty average looking, I've got bad eye sight, and I'm a little more than ten years older than him. We do get along well, we've got some things in common, and we see each other often, but can that really perpetuate what he claims to feel for me?

There's some silence, and I'm already terrified from the aspect of this getting out and me somehow losing my job because of it, but then a clear voice booms from within the classroom. "Just tell him then, why dontcha?" I hear Yuu Nishinoya's voice, Asahi's foil. "He's probably in the staff room right now, we can still catch him if we hurry." The determined boy's footsteps draw closer to the door, until a desk creaks, movement seems to have stopped, and I'm nearly peeing my pants from the fear of being caught.

I can't see it, but Asahi's got a fistful of the back of Nishinoya's shirt, and his eyebrows are furrowed. "No. I don't want to trouble him with a thing like this. It's better if things stay the way they are." I nodded quickly, my body trembling, hoping I have time to escape. I can't make any noise though, or break out into a run. That'd be a dead give away, wouldn't it?

"Well... maybe it wouldn't work out, you being student and teacher and all."

"And you were about to make me go confess to him!" Asahi wailed exasperatedly, and I found myself fighting a smile as I listened to Yuu continue. "But you can't just give up. I'm sure Take-chan digs you too. You guys are always talking about books and poetry and stuff. He's got to have taken notice of you." There was a creak on another desk, like the small boy had plopped right up onto it. I'd never cursed at a student before, but I was internally unloading any restraint when he encouraged Asahi like that, especially when the tall male's voice rang with optimism. "R-Really? Well, it's true that he likes all of my favorite authors... I'm trying to learn all of his favorites too. Every time he loans me a book I get so excited-it's like he's giving me a part of himself." I knew Asahi could be passionate about volleyball and literature alike, but to hear him be passionate about me? It was only natural that my cheeks would heat up, and I'd grip the stack of papers tightly to my chest.

"He's kind to everybody, I know that... it's just... when _we're_ together... I like to think that I'm special in his eyes. Just a little." I looked down at my feet, feeling guilty. Had I given him any reason to harbor this hope? Did I give him extra attention? It didn't seem like I did. Asahi just was one of those few kids with a passion for literature, and naturally I gravitated toward those types. Had I ever noticed any indication that he liked me this much? "I just... wanna lay in bed with him all day and listen to him recite in my ear," the young, bearded male mumbled embarrassedly, before letting out the most sweet, lovelorn sigh.

This was bad. Or maybe it wasn't-he's just a kid, he's obviously confusing his admiration for something else. I still wanted to put a stop to this, somehow. I wasn't going to outright reject him, not when he hadn't even tried to confess. But I'll set up boundaries. I'd be the responsible adult, and not the curiously foolish person that wondered what content I'd be whispering into his ear.

I managed to escape, slowly and quietly as they spoke and topics changed. I half expected Nishinoya to burst into the staff room and tell me that Asahi was waiting for me somewhere, wanting to tell me something. But Nishinoya never came, and after I muddled through work there was volleyball practice to attend to.

I felt guilty for some weird reason. Before Asahi even found the courage to tell me, I already knew, and was unfairly determining how to end it before it began. Poor guy didn't have a chance. It's not his fault, though. And it's not like I particularly _dislike_ Asahi, but quite the contrary. I tried not to look as fazed and worried as I actually felt, tugging on the hem of my green track suit jacket out of idleness, which covered my work shirt and tie, a pair of my usual slacks underneath. It couldn't have been my fashion sense he was after. My eyes trailed after Asahi, trying to figure out what was going in his mind. As broken as he sounded in the classroom I'd tried to pass by earlier, it didn't seem like it was affecting him here, around everyone else. He was just as gentle when it came to interactions, and that quickly broke down once he was in 'ace mode'. He demanded attention when he was seriously immersed in the game. All of the players were profoundly magnetic, happening to feed off of each others resilience.

It was so tense that my body quickly went rigid, and I found myself pretty stiff by the end of practice.

"Takeda-sensei." I wasn't expecting Asahi to speak to me so soon, and I froze like an idiot, gawking stupidly with my hand rubbing into the small of my back to get it relaxed again. "Y-Yes?" I replied, clearing my throat to offer a timid smile. He raised his eyebrows, before continuing in a soft manner that was as usual, unfitting for a boy of his size and appearance. "Could you throw Suga a few practice tosses, please? We'd like to do a little more individual practice." Sometimes I did help out, when both of the managers and the coach were busy with others, and after a quick look around I was nodding my head. "Yes! But you'll have to put up with my horrible excuse for tossing." Asahi smiled just a little, and the silver haired third year interrupted with a laugh, "Not at all, Take-sensei. Thanks for helping us out." I rolled up my sleeves, determined to help them out, and felt myself limbering enough through toss four that the rest weren't all too bad. Sugawara would make up for whatever I erred and toss it a little ways from the net, for Asahi to drive it over and into the ground, with a ferocity rarely seen in seventeen year olds. Sugawara had to keep politely reminding me so that I'd take my eyes off of Asahi, clumsily tossing another ball in the setter's direction.

Besides being his teacher, I wasn't gay. Sure, I hadn't been with a lot of women either, but I'd never felt that way for another man. Was Asahi gay? Did I just happen to be his type? I wrinkled my nose in thought, tossing ball after ball, until a blur resounded on the other side of the net, and Nishinoya's forearms were taking the brunt of Asahi's spike. The ball was perfectly redirected to where Nishinoya's invisible setter would've been waiting, a victorious smile on his lips as he regarded the ace. "Not too shabby~" He chided, Asahi replying with a spiritless smile, ace mode quickly running away what with Nishinoya's playful attitude. I grinned in response, until Yuu's piercing gaze suddenly tore into me, and I was going rigid once more. "Take-chan." I nodded shakily in response as he ducked underneath the net, heading my way. Asahi shifted from the corner of my eye, but Nishinoya was readily demanding my attention. "You have anybody you like?" He asked suddenly, so suddenly that my eyebrows furrowed. "What a question! I don't." It wasn't until I realized that this was for Asahi's sake that I imagined what hope I might've instilled in Asahi.

"What's your type?" Nishinoya was dead serious, and I couldn't help the nervous titter that I released. "Type? Uhh, type. I like women." Nishinoya gave me a ridiculous look, like he'd wanted a different answer. "I mean, what type of girls are you into?" He pressed, putting me in an uncomfortable position. I felt like Sugawara would've intervened, if it wasn't for the fierce glare he received from Nishinoya when he moved an inch. Might as well answer honestly, right? It's girls we're talking about. "W-Well... I like them sweet, and gentle. But also passionate, when it comes to things they enjoy. I l-like long hair. And girls that are shorter than me. And if they could cook, that'd be wonderful." God, why wasn't I married yet? This sounded awesome. Nishinoya was grinning at me, his gaze switching meaningfully to Asahi, who seemed to be scrutinizing our difference in height.

The smaller boy moseyed right up to Asahi, elbowing him in the side. "Better work on that whole _shorter_ thing." He murmured, and I quickly turned away before I could see Asahi frantically countering with a, " _Jeez_ , Noya."

I helped a little with clean up, until the boys pressed that they could take care of it themselves. I let them to it, feeling a little spent after all the time worrying about Asahi and I. Other than Nishinoya freaking me the Hell out, Asahi hadn't tried to make a move. It was a little unnerving how normal things seemed to be, day in and day out since I'd heard his confession outside of the classroom. Other than Nishinoya bugging me with weird questions once in awhile, interactions between Asahi and I were just about normal, except for how jumpy and nervously I acted. Did Asahi really love me? Why wasn't he doing anything about it? How could he be so calm around me? Outside of the court, Asahi didn't seem to be the type to take the initiative, so after a few moments of mindlessly mulling over it, I gave up and relaxed throughout the rest of the day. Asahi understood our positions, and that nothing would come out of it. It was regrettable that his feelings were wasted on me but he'd realize the error of his misplaced crush and would get over me. This was a good thing.

 _"You're a liar."_

It's a tone that's familiarly gruff, and deep, enough to send chills through me. The voice struck my core, inwardly forcing me to peer up into dark brown eyes, into the face of a man who challenged my reasoning. I wasn't going to give a rebuttal, I couldn't, my naked torso suddenly swept close by warm, big hands that were calloused and rough against my smooth skin. He was naked too and pressing up close, guiding me into him. There wasn't any urge to resist, my mind didn't fight it, my own hands accepting him and sliding up his neck, feeling out the particularly strong jawline with my thumbs, feeling his beard dissipate the further up I caressed, before we were kissing and I was submitting everything to him. Pride, shame, passion, hope. Those strong hands were made for spiking the ball, weren't made to touch a man like this, but I worshiped them for every second they traced my skin, every time they pinned me down and grabbed me. It was probably the single most erotic dream of my life, being rutted into the bed by a male twelve years my junior, taken over and over again with his name escaping my lips an innumerable amount of times.

"A... zumann... haahh _zumane_... hhrnrrckk... 've... never done _tha_ -... ohhh." It's not my low sleepy moans that wake me, but the blaring phone alarm that I'd fixed to wake me up early for school. I quickly became aware of myself and reached over to dismiss the alarm, groaning tiredly into my palm. The dream was still fresh on my mind, and a warm ache was throbbing between my thighs. I was _how_ old? A wet dream? About possibly the _most_ inappropriate person?

It wasn't enough to disregard _his_ feelings. Now I had to guard against this dangerous attraction that I was gearing towards, all because of the teenager who possessed a body _way_ too killer and masculine for his age.

It'd been awhile since I had to take a cold shower in the morning, and pray profusely to whatever god was in charge of slaying teachers that had wet dreams about their students.

"I finished the book, Sensei." That voice definitely belonged to a man. Not the kindly smiling owner of a messy, brunette bun, with a light tan sweater that didn't hide his powerful physique in the slightest. It was the free period for lunch, and I was sitting at my desk in the lunch room, meat bun wrapped in a napkin held by the hand that hadn't been holding a pen for grading. My face was pale, as if I'd seen a ghost, blanking stupidly before noticing the book he was handing over to me. I shook my head to clear my mind, dropping the pen to accept the book, "O-Oh! Right. Sorry, Azumane, I've been out of sorts lately." Out of sorts and into your pants. Jesus Christ Ittetsu, this wasn't the time to be joking around-

"Really?" His hand dropped once the book was in my possession, a hint of concern notching his eyebrows up. "I hope it's not _too_ serious... but if you need someone to talk to, I don't mind lending you an ear." He so easily leaned a palm on my desk, his body language open and accepting, and frighteningly casual. I briefly thought how nice it was to be loved by someone like him.

I smiled at him, shaking my head slowly. "It's nothing serious. You finished it quickly, huh? Did you enjoy it?" I dragged out a bite of my lunch as his lips bore a gentle sigh, and his thick digits curled on the desk. "It was _great_. I forgot I was actually reading a book, felt more like I'd stepped into a whole other world. The author's pretty good at making that happen." He understood me perfectly. The book I'd loaned him contained a perfect example of total immersion, where the plot was completely understood and was easily able to adapt to the mind of any reader. The author had a knack for that, and the next book of his I'd planned on loaning was akin to that.

"What do you have for me next?" It was almost like a cheeky sounding challenge coming out of that ordinarily sweet mouth, and I realized then that I'd let Asahi get too familiar. He was in the staff room, a place where students rarely came, and at that it was only to talk serious with teachers about school. But I'd let this turn into a meeting place of our own, where we'd discuss romantic literature in the simplest of forms. And not so much romantic in the sense of love and courting, though at times there was some of that, rather focusing on the Romantic era and the value in aestheticism and emotion. I could talk about it all day, and I knew Asahi would listen and hang on every word.

I gently set the book down, before looking back at him. "Honestly, I can't think of another book at the moment... It seems you've exhausted all my recommendations." It was a lie, there were about ten more books I'd been dying to show him. He looked disappointed, and I turned my eyes back toward the stack of papers.

"... I should let you get back to that. Thanks for the book." He'd read the dismissive attitude, and enough guilt flooding through me had my voice squeaking out a weak, "Wait."

He'd stood up straight, eyes locked onto my face with an indiscernible amount of muffled emotion. What was behind those dark eyes? Didn't need to ask, I already knew what was going on.

"The book I loaned you... there was a film adapted from it, in 1953. I'm not sure if you're very partial to older films, but I have a copy... _if_ you'd like to come over and watch it."

Asahi looked for a moment like he was trying to vehemently resist. But there was no way he could. "Yeah, I would."

* * *

There's so much I want to do. I want to make this cute. I want to make it realistic. I want to make it angsty. I want to keep them in character as much as possible, but by putting them in these situations I want them to have flaws they didn't realize they had.

I'm taking this way too goddamn seriously. Hope you guys are enjoying it so far!


	3. Chapter 3

Told from Asahi's perspective this time!

* * *

I didn't know how it started, maybe with the accidental touch of a hand, or a look shared between us, but we'd started kissing and it was so natural and easy that I had to keep on asking myself if this was still reality. It was soft and slow, the way our mouths moved and our heads tilted, my arm resting on the couch behind his shoulders, fingers curling in the back of his shirt. He was the one to break the kiss first, lightly panting, cheeks aglow with excited delight.

"So _this_ is how you're going to kiss Take-chan," Nishinoya breathed in awe, and I felt my own cheeks start to heat up. "In my _wildest_ dreams, maybe." My legs sprawled a bit further to help alleviate the heat I felt between them, relaxing back into the couch of the second year's room as he wiggled closer, fingers coming up to bluntly touch at my facial hair. "This is a lil' itchy, though. Maybe you should shave before?" He stroked along my chin before sitting up on his knees, initiating another kiss before I could think to stop him. This little bit of attention was nice, even if it wasn't from the guy I dreamed about. Straddling my lap and holding my head in his hands, he kissed affectionately and deep, getting the hang of it before I could, and I was growing dizzy in the sensuous stroke of his smaller tongue against mine, which rolled back against his with a deep grunt. He pulled away again, his hands having migrated to my long, brown hair as he looked down, a little bit of lust glazing over his eyes. "What about _me_? Can't you like _me_ , like you do Take-sensei?" He asked with a wolfish grin, which startled me, before I could see that he was only teasing.

"No, it can't be you. Not anyone else." Even _this_ felt like betrayal, and Nishinoya could read it on my face. "Aww c'mon, 'm just joking. You know Kiyoko-san's the only one for me." He grasped his own shoulders and shivered just from the thought of her, before hopping off my lap. "Things are gonna change, I can feel it! Get pumped!" He slugged my shoulders a few times, and thoughts returned to the one person that could get me heated up impossibly further than Nishinoya could.

We didn't plan the exact time and day I'd come over to watch the movie, and I'd almost thought Takeda-Sensei had forgotten it a week later, until he mentioned it during the latter half of practice when I was lined up for spikes.

"Would you... perhaps like to come over and watch it tonight?" He asked so quietly I'd nearly missed it, letting Tanaka go ahead of me in line as I stepped to the side, fingers pulling at the neckline of my shirt to fan myself off. Sweat and exertion probably wasn't flattering on me, but I didn't see any sign of complaint once I picked up the lower hem of my shirt to wipe my brow, exposing the toned, lower half of my torso. "Tomorrow's Sunday, huh? I wouldn't have to wake up early, so walking home late won't be a big issue."

"O-Oh, you don't have to walk home after." He quickly interjected, his smaller fingers tightening over the clipboard. "Well... you could stay the night. _Only_ if you'd like. I wouldn't want to send my student out late at night... and I could make dinner! Or _try_ , I suppose." I thought this'd been _way_ too good to be true. Takeda was practically begging me to stay the night. If I didn't know how innocent he was, I would've flushed outright. But it was cute how lonely dejection already seemed to encompass him before I could even answer, and I took a step forward, releasing my shirt. "Yeah, I'll let my parents know. Sounds like fun." With a smile I turned back to envelop myself in practice in an effort to calm myself down. I hadn't planned on confessing or even _kissing_ , both of those were impossible. But I would _not_ deny myself the sweetness of his company.

It was a grueling workout to compensate for tomorrow's day off, and by the end of it my footsteps felt heavy, body thrilled and still buzzing with the exhaustion as it set in. Somehow Hinata and Kageyama were still bouncing around the place, bickering and encouraging each others excitement. I was dressing back into my uniform, Sensei had agreed to meet me out front, when Nishinoya nudged my arm, easily whisking off his own gym shirt. "So what's the plan? Watch the movie and quietly go to bed? A nice little slumber party?" He teased, making me frown slightly with a small shrug that seemed to lack confidence for the broad width of my shoulders. "That's enough for me. I don't want to make any trouble for him."

Nishinoya didn't quite agree with it, I could see it on his deep set frown that he would do things differently himself. But I didn't have that unwavering confidence, and I didn't want to know a world without Sensei's friendly warmth, so I killed off hope for anything other than what was appropriate between a teacher and student. I was still excited though, after reading that book I was stoked to see the movie, and when I met Sensei at the front gate he seemed just as excited. I'd texted my parents along the way, listening to him speak about the actors in the film and what other older movies they'd been in, about awards the film had gotten and such.

"Let's see... we could do curry, but I'm not sure if you'd want to weather my cooking." Takeda laughed beside me as we stood there inside Shimada Mart. I gave him a smile, before reaching for the curry mix. "Well, _I_ can make it. I've done it before." My words slowed as I flipped over the packet in my hands, looking down at Takeda's awestruck features with a sheepish grin. "Don't look at me like that, 's not a big deal."

"I just think it's amazing you can cook! Here, let's get some vegetables and meat too!" We went over ingredients, choosing different things to add to _our_ curry. I got to learn what he preferred in his, and he learned that I wasn't picky. He had a basket full of food items, a few beers for him and juice for me, when he stopped around the health aisles. He returned after the short walk with something in the basket I didn't recognize at first, maybe because I was more excited about the movie and distracted by the heat that bloomed across Takeda's cheeks in the most brilliant of reds.

He paid and we were heading to the place he called home, a one bedroom apartment a few blocks from Shimada mart, up a set of stairs and down all the way. He fumbled with his keys before letting us in, letting me know where I could set my duffel bag and backpack, before he was setting things up in the kitchen. I followed him into the kitchen and washed my hands, forgetting again to see what else he'd bought besides food and drink as he unloaded each item. "Then, I'll leave it to you and get the water for the bath drawn." He saw that I was already familiarizing myself with his small kitchen, taking out a pot and working the rice cooker, stepping toward the end of the hall. "I have some clothes for you to borrow, I'll bring them out when it's your turn." My teacher grinned and went to take the bath first, leaving me to prepare dinner. It was easy cutting vegetables, sauteing them in the sauce, adding meat, things like that. I almost felt bad for Sensei, who couldn't even do that much, but it was an endearing trait, one that I wouldn't have minded making up for with my cooking skill alone.

While the aromatic ingredients simmered away, I was looking around the simple apartment, which had a small living room and what was undoubtedly Takeda's room behind a closed door, and then the bathroom that leaked hot steam from underneath the door. The movie was out on the coffee table, I turned it over in my hands and scanned the contents before moving on to the bookshelf, recognizing the few books I'd borrowed from him and others that I'd recommended. I was nose deep in one book when Takeda came out, the flicker of movement from his towel in his hair catching my attention from the corner of my eye. "Bath's all yours. It smells _great_." He wasn't wearing glasses, his contently warmed, reddened cheeks would've probably steamed up the lenses. Few droplets clung to his chin and slid down his neck, slightly revealed with the regular t-shirt's neckline, and below that a pair of sweats. "I've put a change of pajamas in there for you-they're baggy on _me_ so I assume they'll be fine on you." I nodded and slipped the book back to its place, turning the heat on low and giving him the simple instructions on what to do with the food while I was gone before heading in.

I took time to strip, rinse off underneath the shower head, then soak my thoughts away. I was in Sensei's apartment, sharing his bathwater. Might've been a disgusting thought to others, but to me it meant he and I were linked, the guilty happiness welling up in me so pleasantly bright that I had to snap myself out of my reverie after wasting a good ten minutes soaking. I let the water drain and exited the bath, drying off as thoroughly as possible before I was putting on the clothes provided. He'd given me a long sleeved shirt that fit well, and I could only imagine how baggy it'd be on him. The sweats were a little loose on me, and I wonder where he'd procured clothes so large and _why_ he had them readily available.

I came out quickly with the towel haphazardly thrown on my hair, checking the curry and sighing in relief when it wasn't totally dried out. "I can at _least_ babysit the curry, no need to look so worried." Takeda teased, before eagerly watching me plate the portions of rice and curry onto two plates. I was a little quiet with nerves, but if Takeda noticed he didn't say a thing, carrying on like usual with his ecstatic passion for the movie, as we brought our food and drinks to the coffee table and set up on the couch.

" _Sooo_ good, Asahi-kun!" Takeda blew profusely onto the next bite, so that it hadn't burned his tongue the second time as much as he had the first, since he'd been without proper warning. "I'm glad you like it, Sensei," I laughed, letting my own bite cool before I scooped some in my mouth, chewing as the beginning credits started. My hair was still damp, I hadn't remembered to dry it underneath the towel I still had on, the droplets marking my shoulders. Sensei noticed before I did, setting down his plate to sit closer, his hands reaching for my head. I remained still, how I managed to keep on eating without flinching or freaking out surprised me. He was touching me, or more specifically my hair, moving the towel around gently, rubbing tufts of hair between two ends of the towel. "You'll catch a cold if you don't properly dry, Asahi." He was saying my first name more and more frequently, I felt like I was about to pass out from how sweetly he said it each time. His arms seemed to get tired and he rested more on me as he continued. He _did_ have to sit up on the couch, on his knees just to reach my hair, so his arms and chest rested over my left shoulder as he worked, his front grazing along my arm. "There..." He took the corner of the towel and softly brushed it along my chin, catching the few droplets from my goatee. Even when Nishinoya played with it I didn't feel as on edge as I did now, praying vehemently that I wouldn't spring a boner on him, wondering if I looked as hopelessly embarrassed as I felt. My teacher tossed the towel behind us lazily after sitting back down in his place, having since picked up his glasses and placed them back on. The two of us were back to eating our dinner while watching the movie, though periodically I could see his face shift toward mine during crucial moments in the movie to see my reaction first hand. With that pressure it was a little hard to react naturally, but the movie seemed to immerse me as well as the book had, so I was able for _once_ to take my mind off of Sensei, and drift into the world of the writer.

 _Twas a new_ feeling _-something more_  
 _Than we had_ dared to own _before,_  
 _Which then we hid_ not _:_

I drifted so much that I almost didn't notice him sitting closer. I almost missed the longing look in his eyes whenever he glanced my way, or how he nervously fiddled with his fingers. What _was_ this? What was he doing? Why had the look on his face changed? What was different now? Takeda's face tilted downward, I could see that from the limited vision in my peripheries, and I felt the warmth of his fingers slip through mine. My heart was pounding like crazy, I found it increasingly difficult to breathe with the tightness in my chest as I tore my gaze slowly from the movie, as if looking any faster would break the spell. Our fingers were laced together, his smaller, clammy fingers tightening as our eyes met.

 _We saw it in each others_ eye _,_  
 _And wished, in every_ half-breathed _sigh,_  
 _To speak, but did_ not _._

I felt like my expression had to be giving myself away, I couldn't mask the pathetic amount of affection that had me squeezing his hand back. Did he already know what I felt? Was I so obvious about it? He watched me for awhile, almost unsure, until his face inclined near mine and I was brushing my lips down against his.

 _She felt my lips'_ impassioned _touch-  
'Twas the first time I dare _so much _,  
_

There was a shudder of excitement lost between us and I kissed again, feeling the warmth pulsate in strong bursts from where our lips touched. His warm cheeks felt so soft, his mouth even more so as I took it, so eager to kiss him again and again until he was softly panting my name. "'sahi... wait, this is a good part," My lips brushed against his smooth cheek as he turned his head toward the screen, expecting me to do the same. My heart felt so heavy, I wasn't able to concentrate on the movie anymore, much less look away from his embarrassed, almost puzzled features. The kiss had been perfect, every point of my body was thrilled, unlike the time I'd kissed Nishinoya previous. It had to be a testament of my feelings for him, from how wildly familiar Takeda's lips felt against mine.

 _And_ yet _she chid_ not _;_

"My _darling_ ," I murmured ragged for him and he trembled in response for me, my lips caressing the shell of his ear as I leaned closer, eyes clenched shut as I nuzzled against the side of his face, my thumb tracing up his wrist. He was unable to move that hand, but the other he brought to my shirt and flexed his fingers, letting out something of a mix between a gasp and a whine. I let him grab a handful of my shirt, my palm sliding up his other arm to hold and bring him closer, finding his lips again in a firmer, searing kiss. He didn't smile at the endearment, or shirk from the intensity of my embrace, only giving into it, slowly reclining back onto the long couch. I followed him, hovering over the smaller body and pinning him with a sample of my weight, so that he was reassured of my presence as we kissed, his fingers relaxing their hold on my shirt. I bumped into his glasses a number of times as we kissed but the nuisance was barely felt, my fingers instead rushing through his frayed, curly locks, raking them from his forehead and gently keeping them still. "I... _'mm_... sorry, Azu... zumane. For being such an i-irresponsible teacher." He whimpered, eyes half lidded behind his glasses, and despite the heat in his face and the desire in his voice, he _did_ look a little miserable, for whatever guilt was laying on his conscious. "You _should_ be sorry," I commented with a look down, finding an innate satisfaction when all I had to do was incline my head a degree or two, and Takeda was eagerly lifting his head to sweep me into another kiss, almost so that I couldn't finish. I teased against his lips, accenting every other word with a firm kiss, "Making me the _happiest_ man alive? _Who..._ do you think you _are_?" Our lips parted and I tried remembering how Nishinoya used his tongue, kicking myself mentally for thinking of him during _this_ of all things, but when I could feel Takeda's stiffness rub excitedly against my thigh, I must've thanked the libero a million times.

I reached down underneath, lifting myself off of him slightly to slip his shirt up partway, hands rummaging below it as I felt him, his tongue more desperate as it rolled against mine, throaty moans leaking beyond his control. His hands rested at my shoulder, migrating up my neck and through my hair, squeezing my soft tufts of brunette locks when I rolled his nipples under my thumb, squeezing the lack of chest as he kept my face near. I lifted his shirt the rest of the way, tugging urgently for him to raise his arms, his head popping from the neckline as I drew the rest of the shirt from him, placing it above his head. I couldn't help but stare, tracing the slender lines and faint roundness of his abdomen, not overly round, just the perfect smooth build I'd expect from the less athletically inclined man. " _Gorgeous_ ," I breathed and he laughed, smoldering each other in a whirlwind of happy kisses.

The giddiness melted into sensuous, needy kisses, both of our breathing shallow as our eyes followed my hand further down, watching it feel for the visible bulge in his sweats. He shivered needily and his body relaxed immediately when I started groping, trying to reach fully around his clothed erection but found it difficult with the material in between. I pulled at both sides of his sweats and tugged them from him, he quickly lifted his hips in kind and dropped his hands to take off his briefs after. "The bag i-in the kitchen, Asahi-kun," He kissed around my face, his flushed cheeks warming mine. I wasn't sure what he was talking about, and it took a lot to lift me from him, but I wobbled up from the couch and reached for an untouched bag, grabbing what I hadn't really placed before.

Lube and condoms.

It didn't strike me dramatically that my teacher had planned for this, I was too thrilled to see that far into it, instead bringing myself back between his legs and onto his mouth. My hair cascaded around his face as my tongue sought refuge in his mouth, which was welcomed with a pleased sound and a buck of his hips against mine. The things scattered onto the couch in my haste to open them, one a condom and the other a bottle released from the package I'd recently torn. He was flustered and beautiful underneath me, completely naked, his length rested taut against his abdomen, looking as eager as the rest of him did to be touched. He bunched up my shirt from the back until he was tugging it over my head, making me pull apart momentarily as he wrestled it off. His eyes meant everything to me, I wanted him to be pleased with what he saw, but I wasn't anything like his aforementioned type of girl. I wasn't small, or cute. I had the body of a man before I could even rightly be called that. "It's really okay, Sensei?" Lovers or not, old habits died hard, I couldn't help but call him by what I usually did. He nodded his assent quickly, fumbling with his little guilt ridden squirm of his lips as he took my wrist and hand forward, flipping the container of lube open with his thumb and squirting some out onto my fingers. A bit dripped onto him below and he wiggled. It was cool against my fingers, but I'd have it warm for him soon enough.

He let the bottle fall to the side and guided my hand in between his legs, both sets of his small fingers wrapped around my larger wrist. I was so mesmerized by how cutely embarrassed and concentrated he was that I nearly missed where he was directing my hand. My slickened fingers were running down his taint, evoking a choked moan out of him before my fingers were feeling the dip in his ass where his tight entrance sat. Looking back up at him in awe he nodded his head quickly, releasing my hand to seek purchase around my neck. I swirled my fingers around the sensitive nerve endings there, kissing him as he shook. He called my name and I started sinking in the first finger, easing it slowly until his ass's resistance gave way to a rhythmically sucking sensation. He was still tight, but the kisses and the hushed praises I gave him were helping him relax. My eyes fell down between us, I watched his little hole swallow my finger and felt an immense pride, as well as an immense pleasure from the notion that I'd be slipping myself in soon.

"Sensei... I know it might be odd to you but-could you possibly-" I was having a hard time asking this, mostly because I interrupted myself each time Takeda's ass automatically tightened around my finger, and each heaven-filled sigh that passed him. His eyes stared on through his glasses, waiting for me to finish with an almost impatient push down onto my finger. My second finger started to prod around his entrance, and he hissed at the sting the slow stretch brought on. "Could you... _recite_? For me?" I asked timidly, slowly rotating my fingers inside, pulling them apart gently to see how much I could stretch, loving how hard he'd cling onto me each time I was knuckle deep and rubbed whatever met the tip of my fingers inside. He silently held onto my shoulders and I thought he hadn't heard me, or would pretend not to, but he started speaking quietly. I started to move my fingers again. "T-Twas a _new_ feeling... something more... than we had dared to o... own before," I kissed and suckled along his throat, he turned his face toward mine, lips murmuring into my ear, "Which then we hit _not;_ we... _Azu..._ we saw it... it in... _nn_ _h_ each others eye..." The skin of his neck was dotted with small marks, my fingers lazily rubbed inside him until he was arching the slender curve of his back, hurriedly panting out the poem, "And wished, _iteveryhalf-breathedsigh_ , to speak, but did _not-mngh_ ~!" A strained voice receded into a hoarse cry, taking the opportunity of his softened, pliant walls to start feeding another finger inside him, his eyes buzzing as they watched mine. "She felt m... ma... my lips' impassioned _touch_... twas... _ow_ , it _stings_ -" His hands slid up both sides of my neck, holding me at my jawline as he rejected the addition of the third finger. " _Takeda-Sensei_ ," I soothed, taking my other hand off the bed and instead found the length of his cock, stroking it idly as he struggled between the faint pleasure and the discomfort the stretch brought. "Twas?" I encouraged him to continue with a kiss to his lips, a frustrated huff leaving him as he thoughtfully squinted his eyes shut, trying to remember his place. "The first ti-time I dared so _much_ , and yet she... _hahh_ ~! She chid not... but whispered o'er my burning brow..." His cheeks looked warm enough to melt an iceberg, his hips were rolling in tandem with my fingers and I realized my own hips had been gyrating and swirling in anticipation. My fingers left him and the concentration was lost, his face releasing half in relief and disappointment as he waited for me to tear open the condom and roll it on over my aching cock, after jerking down my sweats and boxers. I took some more of the lube and applied a liberal amount over the condom, feeling stupidly self conscious when he watched me, his eyes remaining a little too long.

"What did she whisper?" I asked him, his attention jerking back up to me. I held myself at the base and fell in between his thighs, supporting myself up with one hand at first. The poor teacher couldn't decide whether to finish the poem, breathe, or brace himself for me. I gave it a little more pressure until the head of my cock burst through, and my eyelids fluttered close. His voice was still close, almost beckoning, but obviously laden with the pain of being taken.

"Oh, do you doubt I love you now?"

I opened my eyes quickly to stare at him, his expression sweetly silly as usual, though somewhat uneasy, still trying to get himself to adjust to my girth the more I press into him. His thighs were as soft as downy around me, his insides even moreso, and incredibly warm, I quickly forgot everything outside this world of him and I. "What?" I asked stupidly, thoughts jumbled as I reiterated each word in my head until it was spinning, and I grounded myself by kissing him slowly, hands grazing down to his hips.

He bashfully tilted his head away, his thighs tightening around my hips. "Sweet... _soul_! I did not... ahh... _don't move_ , I'll break-" He gasped when I pulled out and rolled my hips back into his, warmth flooding over my body as I used his hips to propel myself in again, letting out sounds I didn't even know I was capable of as I rocked him into the couch. "Sen... _sei_... Take... _da_ Ngh!" His hips were meeting mine, the slow movements of our hips matching as I eased inside again and again, something akin to pleasure filling out on his face, his eyes leaving mine to look between us. " _There,_ Asahi, _please_ ," the flushed man's breathing grew heavier and more ragged, I complied for him to rub myself in deep, evoking a deep shudder and twitch of his body. My brown eyes took in everything about this moment, how he pulled me down closer against him and kissed with an unmistakable longing, how his lips formed my name and the frequent moans that became the only coherent source of his approval, besides his affectionately squeezing ass and the lewd movement of his hips. I couldn't reach fully inside him, a quarter of me was left out because of the position, but it was already feeling so good that I could care less. We kissed so much I was sure our lips would be sore by tomorrow, his tongue stroking softly against mine, coaxing strangled sounds of satisfaction as I fucked him, slow and gently, despite the urge to pound him into nothingness.

"T-Touch yourself," I begged, sounding too pleased with the thought to demand it. His fingers slipped from my shoulders wordlessly, his eyes nervously darted from mine as he started pulling on himself, the fingers of his left hand immovable at his sac, the other hand tugging his hardness in quick, determined strokes. Every thrust of mine only enhanced the beautiful expression on his face, his thumb catching each bead of precum to wipe over himself. I didn't think I'd ever see such an impure sight on Takeda-sensei, I'd never allowed myself to think it out of guilt, but now I worshiped it. I quickened the pace of each movement, adding more force behind each buck inside, moans mingling with his inside our connected mouths.

"Asahiii," he whined, clenching almost rhythmically around my cock, bumping his glasses into the bridge of my nose. I aimed each pound of my body against him, trying to strike that sensitive bundle of nerve endings with each slam, holding his hips hard against me as I ground into him, smashing my tip against his sweet spot. "Ahh-hah! _MNGH~_!" He was so stimulated he couldn't even move his hands and it was almost too much for him, his hands were tight over mine as if to pry them off and keep them on at the same time, squirming wildly beneath my weight. He came quickly with a series of relieved, long moans, drowning out my quiet, heaving breaths as the steady sucking and clenching of his walls ushered me over the edge just as fast. "Ta _... shit_ ," I moaned loudly until I was spent in the condom, holding him close enough to confirm just how real he was. His hands were on my shoulder, warm face buried in my neck, cooing the rest of the poem so softly into my ear that my toes were curling.

It took awhile to come down from the mutual high, but we did it slowly, and experimentally, like any first time lovers before. It started with the gradual softening of my cock, to which I pulled out and slipped the rubber off, fumbling as I tied it off. He smiled and watched me awkwardly place it on the table beside us. His need was slick between our chests and I looked down to see myself dirtied with it too, but with a warm look up in the general vicinity of his grin, I didn't care about it. His hands traced over my trapezius, then as far down my back as he could reach, my arms cradling his body, our breathing relaxing some.

"... If... it's not already too obvious about how I feel, I..." God, why was this so hard? I'd just nailed my teacher, how was it even more difficult to tell him that I loved him?

"It's plain, Asahi. You don't have to force yourself." He kissed me for reassurance and I firmed my lips back against his, enjoying the sweet taste of his mouth as I grew comfortable against him. I didn't have to force things, not with how easily things seemed to transpire.

We'd showered sometime after, dressed, ate more curry and rested during the movie. I woke up next to him in his own bed, surrounded by the warmth of morning light, by his smell all around me, his voice whispering a 'Good morning' into my ear. The front of my body fit against his back as he turned toward me, kissing me slowly until his neck hurt and he parted the kiss to turn his back to me, his ass backing up accidentally against my front. "S-Sorry," he apologized, until I pushed myself forward enough times that he was rutting back unapologetic, wiggling his face into the pillow as I humped him from behind, breathing heavily into his ear as I licked his neck. The slow, carefulness from last night was replaced with a sense of urgency, my arms tight around him as he reached behind, touching me through the sweats he'd loaned me. "Take-Sensei," I murmured heavily into his ear, shifting my hands down below his waist, reaching beneath his bottoms to hold him in my grasp. He felt heavy and thick in my hand, he hiccuped a moan and stroked his hands faster, before he floundered on the bed, replacing his hands with his ass over me, his fingers shoving down the waistband of his pants. " _Asahi_ ," he called, I quickly got up from the bed for lube, not minding that I was the errand boy in his case.

Slicked up without a condom, because of his urging, I held his hips up off the bed, helping him spread his legs further. His chest was down on the bed, the angle making his shirt ride up to underneath his arms. He held a pillow, briefly looking over his shoulder as I started easing in, inch by inch, the tight heat a little easier to thrust into. At that, with this angle I could get in deeper, much to his surprise as I thrust in to the hilt. "You-can- _mngh_ -go- _harder_ -" Was the staccato of his moans, and before I could even ask him he was already reaching underneath himself, arm moving restlessly as he played with himself. It was all the encouraging I needed to pump him full of my love with little restraint, pounding into his ass with a raw vigor I didn't think such a gentle man deserved, but the loud noises he made would be entirely worth it by the time we finished.

"Water?" He was naked and had his glasses back on, standing over me with a glass of water as I laid on the bed. "Yeah, thanks." My voice was a little hoarse and the water helped wet the dryness. He smiled sweetly as I drank, noticeably slow as he came to sit beside me. "You're not... tired? Doesn't hurt?" I asked him, the older man shrugging indifferently. "A little, but... you've been _extremely_ gentle." I blushed, after all that I was still a highschooler, and nervous around my crush, and self conscious about how I performed as a lover. "I'm just... _so_ happy. But even _that's_ not the right way to describe it." I sat up, feeling a little sluggish, grateful that I didn't have practice until tomorrow. I set the drink down and traced my fingers over the lines of his body, earning a quiet chuckle out of him. "I'm glad you're happy. As teachers, we try to make that a reality for our students."

My eyes glinted with mischief. "But you wouldn't go to _these_ lengths for just _any_ student, would you?"

He blushed, and I ended yet another happy moment with a laugh.

* * *

The poem I've used is Thomas Moore's _Did Not_. If it kind of ruined the flow, putting that poem in there, let me know and I'll make sure to never do something like that again hahaha.

T. R. Smith, comp. Poetica Erotica: Rare and Curious Amatory Verse. 1921–22.


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